Little Brighter
by Elle-Cee-DoubleU
Summary: George struggles to celebrate with the rest of the wizarding world, but he's not alone. It's been done to death most likely but I gave it a go. please R and R.


I realise these types of stories have been done to death, but i gave it a go after my first reading of Deathly Hallows ages ago and thought I'd put it up.

**Little Brighter**

It had been a whole year today since it happened, since he was no longer completely whole and never would be again. There were parties all over the wizarding world today, celebrating the anniversary of Voldemorts long time coming demise at the hand of his friend Harry Potter, a defeat that he knew would always happen. But he had never imagined and still couldn't come to terms with the outcome of that day. He wouldn't be joining in with any celebrating today. Today life everyday since it had happened would be a day of mourning, where nothing seemed right and completely out of place.

As he stood in _their _store surrounded by all the things_ they_ had created _together, _he had never felt more alone. Everything on the shelves was what _they _had invented because there was no more making of Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes with only one Weasley, he was half of a whole in the most miserable of senses.

The shop in general was not doing very well, with the entire wizarding world in a state of hope and renewal, everyone happy and joking. Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes had been that one break from the world, defying the odds and Voldemort alike, it now paled in comparison to what it was like then. Everything seemed dulled and bleak, its usual shine and identical grins were gone leaving only one lonely figure trying to desperately grasp onto the fading memories the store held.

George sat, slumped over on a old couch in the back of the storage room, surrounded by the ghosts of happier times. Surrounded by dwindling boxes of store products that me made no effort to restock, George was hiding away from the happy faces outside who were all rejoicing. A brown owl flecked with white flew in gracefully landing on the couches headrest and dropping a folded note into his lap, wearily George picked up the note and opened it:

George Hunny,

It's mom, I know you said you didn't want to come over today, but at least come over for dinner, we'd all love to see you and I'm sure you could so with a good home cook meal. everyones here and Ron and Hermione told us they have good news to tell us all, I hope this means there'll be another wedding. It you feel up to it dear.

Mom..xxx

George set the note aside and sighed knowing he should go and visit his family but he hadn't been around all of them at once since the funeral. They each had come to see him many times over the last year always tip toeing around him, large grins or sympathetic smiles on their faces the happiness he realised never reached their eyes. George hadn't smiled at all, he had tried to muster one like the members of his family had but it was like his muscled refused to obey. George only thought about going to his family dinner for a few seconds before realising he wouldn't, couldn't go, it would be too familiar yet foreign, too much like the past he could never have back, that would never be the same again.

He heaved himself out of the worn chair and into the front area of the shop and perched himself on one of the two stools behind the slightly dusty counter. A quick glance around the store told him there was no customers, not a irregular occurrence there days. Outside on the street of Diagon Alley, there was a group teenagers walking past the store, laughing happily and enjoying each others company. George hadn't laughed at all for what seemed like forever, how could he laugh when he couldn't even smile because of the vast emptiness that was the only thing he could feel.

He knew he had witnessed plenty of humorous things in the last year and he always wonder how had it been so easy to laugh before, then he scowled and remembered what had made it so, who had made everything so easy before: Fred

Having Fred to joke with, talk to and spend nearly all his time with made up his life, everything they did they had done together. George had known this even before he had lost Fred but never comprehended that it would ever just be him, just half left to try and live incomplete.

George cursed himself for letting his mind wander to thoughts that would make him lose it and cry openly. His thoughts were always on Fred in some way, he could never forget and would never let himself. Thoughts always of what use to be, when they were happy, even during he times of battle and Voldemort, at least they had been together. Thoughts of how very dead Fred was just made George feel even more dead then his lost twin was.

To rid his mind of the miserable thought as best he could, George remembered Hogwarts focusing on all the fun they had had. Testing products, annoying Oliver instead of practicing Quidditch, thinking up new ways to pester Flich. Though just as something that wasn't complete sadness and misery could take a place inside the emptiness he remembered, Hogwarts, the battle. The last place Fred had ever been alive. Ever laughed. Ever fought. Where he had taken his last breath, never to breathe again.

George stood abruptly, trying to leave his thoughts back behind the counter. Finding himself in the back room again, becoming increasingly frustrated with his state of mind. He and Fred had never anticipated one with out the other and now he was living it, possibly the only thing they had never talked about was the only thing he was left with. As he stood there surrounded by so much that reminded him of his sorrow, George let the hot tears rush down his cheeks soaking into his shirt, the same shirt that had been cried upon already since he had put it on.

Leaning over with his hands on his knees he let the tears splash onto the floor making a tiny lone puddles, breathing deeply and pushing back the tears. He straightened up and stood his eyes down cast still heavy with tears. He turned his eyes to star at the wall, but instead saw a face. For a spilt moment he caught sight of such a brilliant vision, of red hair and bright blue eyes and a cheeky grin. A blink later he saw only a pale miserable face that belonged to himself and not the one he truly longed it to be. He had not looked in the mirror for so long, it hurt too much to see himself so similar in nearly every physical feature as Fred.

He had to stop mopping and do something constructive to stop himself breaking down. He wondered quickly if Fred would be in the same situation if it had been him to die instead. He knew the answer already they were so alike how could he not know. He also knew that had it been him instead he would want Fred not to mope and cry even though he would. George knew he needed to reconnect with his family, they couldn't stand losing one twin, let alone the set.

Bracing himself he made another tedious trip to the front of the store, maybe he would close early and head upstairs to the flat and write his mum and the rest of the family a letter to say sorry for missing dinner. While deep in thought he had not noticed a woman enter the store and was standing just inside the door watching him sadly. She took a step forward and his head snapped around to see who had intruded on his loneliness and bitterness. He did no scowl at her though, just like she did not tell him to move on every time she visited him, like so many other had that just didn't understand.

"Many customers today?" she asked in a soft whisper as though she did not want to spoil that dusty silence of the once boisterous joke shop. He shook his head in response and she nodded solemnly.

"Have you been out at the celebrations?" he asked

"No, I'm going to Katie and Olivers' later, even Ang is going, I don't know if I really want to go though"

"Why not?"

"It just won't be the same"

He nodded in understanding, he appreciated the fact she didn't tip toe about him and act as if Fred never existed or had simply move towns, something not to be talked about.

"Oliver told me to tell you to go his and Katies' and to bring fire whiskey"

George turned around and starred a her, if he wasn't going to go and visit his own family, what made them think he would go and celebrate_ this_ day with them.

"What! So they can celebrate too?" It burst out of him so harshly he regretted it instantly, taking such a tone with her, she had always been there for him, he knew she would understand his reaction, but it didn't lessen his smouldering guilt very much.

She shook her head slowly.

"No George, they can't celebrate. They haven't all year and I doubt they will be able to for a long time, like you, they couldn't, not without us all there. It was always the seven of us, you, me, Katie, Oliver, Lee, Ang and…Fred…always" Her voice cracked but she continued.

"They want you to be there to toast to him, relive his memory and have him as close to us as possible"

She had tears in her eye now.

"We can't lose you too" she finished softly, as salty tears cascaded down her soft cheeks.

George knew it had been hard on her, the last year and even before that she lost one of her cousins under Voldemorts wraith, and through this entire time she was still there for him. He absorbed her words and he felt a small sort of tickle in his stomach, possibly of gratitude. His friends had not gone unnoticed in the last year he knew how much they had been there for him, Alica most of all, but it was still wrong. She was right, whenever it had been time with friends, the gang, Fred had been there.

He knew it would never be the same again, but George figured it was a nice thing to relive Freds'memory, and they would never be about to do it properly without him. George wondered if he would be able to do it with them.

He looked up at Alica, who was starring at him intently trying to gauge his answer before he gave it. He stepped forward and took her hand and she squeezed it tightly like she was trying to take away his pain. He looked into her eyes and she gave a sad smile. Fred had always said they were great together, but not as great as him and Angelina. He did not smile back, only nodded and squeezed her hand gently in response and led her to the front door and stepped out guiding her with him. He slipped the open sign to closed, pulled the door too and locked the shop.

George turned around and looked at Alica, took a deep breathe and delved his hands into his pockets.

"Are you ready?" she asked

"No, but he wouldn't want anyone to relive anything about him without me there to make sure they get it right."

She smiled sadly again, something he still could not reciprocate. He pulled out a hand and griped hers lightly, doubting his decision to put himself in a situation where all they would do was discuss exactly he person he mourned, cried for and missed in ways he could never explain.

They walked down Diagon Alley, two sad figures in remembrance surrounded by happy laughing faces. They stepped up to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, as Alica tapped the bricks to leave the all too happy street. George looked back at _their _shop which seemed faded in contrast to everything else around it. He thought, maybe when he got back, it might look a little brighter.

THE END.

Please tell me what you think. Anything helpful is appreciated.


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